


Curse of Hanzo

by ValkyrieShepard



Series: Shimadacest [10]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Curse of Strahd, D&D AU, Incest, M/M, Murder, Polyamory, Reincarnation, Sibling Incest, Smut, Strahd - Hanzo, Top hanzo, Vampire AU, Vampire Hanzo, Vampires, Violence, medieval setting, mention of mcgenji - Freeform, mention of widowhanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieShepard/pseuds/ValkyrieShepard
Summary: Dark powers and the murder of his brother turned Hanzo Shimada into a vampire, stuck in his realm of Hanamura to live alone forever. His only respite are the occasional adventurers attempting to stop him. When a new group arrives, it reveals the reincarnation of his brother. Hanzo has another chance to be with him, forever this time.





	Curse of Hanzo

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently preparing the Curse of Strahd D&D campaign and while I adore the classic gothic horror tale being told here I wondered why it always has to be the lost female love the vampire mourns after. Why not the brother he killed, and that's when Shimadacest came in. In case you don't know who or what Curse of Strahd is, just imagine vampire Hanzo as the handsome [Strahd von Zarovich](https://cdn6.bigcommerce.com/s-ua4dd/images/stencil/1280x1280/products/19324/38127/86522__63081.1501240237.jpg?c=2). My players already plan to seduce the vampire. I can't blame them.

Hanamura castle was silent as the storm drew up overhead. It was not uncommon to be dark during the day, but it let Hanzo walk freely outside without fear of being harmed. He strolled along the castle’s balcony, hand brushing over the dark wooden railing. Below the cliff, the village was visible through the strange fog that had a mind of its own.

 

Hanzo was cursed. And trapped. This was his home, not by choice but by the dark powers that had made him what he was now. Only he could rule Hanamura, only he was good enough. His home was not on this realm anymore, the mist that surrounded it was a gateway to this demiplane, a gateway that wouldn’t let him through, and he had tried, many times.

 

Centuries had passed since he had done these horrible things that transformed him, and Hanzo had become numb and bored. The plight of the people in the village did not interest him, and the only thing that could pique his interest were the men and women who sometimes came to try and kill him. So far, none of them had been good enough to do that, and only a few had even made it to his castle. They were playthings for him, a few lives to pass the time with, some of them interesting or beautiful enough so that he made him his. Not completely like him, but under his spell and willing to do whatever he commanded. None of them, so far, had been worthy enough of becoming a full vampire.

 

It was happening again now, he could feel it. The mist parted, the gateway opened, and another foolish group of adventurers entered his domain. Fresh life force, eager and hopeful only to be crushed by the doom that was hanging over Hanamura. A smile curled on Hanzo’s lips. It was time to play a game.

 

He had spies everywhere, but it had been long enough that he felt so bored that he needed to see them for himself, rather sooner than later. His form shimmered and dissipated, replaced by a cluster of bats, flying down the cliff and towards the village below. The people knew his form, that he spied on them like this when he wanted to, and most fled from his sight if they could. Before the new group of adventurers came into his sight, he hid under the roof of a nearby building, pretending to rest there.

 

Hanzo heard their chatter and laughter from around the corner, and almost had to join them by how naive they seemed to be. This place wasn’t for the hopeful, but they would realise that soon enough. For now, Hanzo just watched them come into view, carefully taking them in. A gunslinger, brown hair, a ridiculous outfit, confident. An archer, pale, black hair, beautiful enough to draw his vision, though her face betrayed no emotion. A large man with a hammer, blonde and confident, holding himself as if nothing could strike him down. A swordsman, two rapiers on his hip, dark and brooding. A woman, she had seen many years but Hanzo knew not to underestimate someone with that many scars, someone who had lost an eye and still kept going. Then… Then his form almost shifted back. Seeing the last member of the group, he almost fell apart.

 

But he was old and strong and he kept still as he watched the spitting image of his brother walk into town. His town. That smile, was just like his, that hair, bright and green, silky, just like his and even like his brother, he wore a sword on his back. Hanzo could not believe it. His brother, after all this time, had returned to him. There was no other explanation but this, that this was Genji’s soul reborn into a new body. He had another chance. After all this time he had another chance to make it right.

 

Not a day went by that Hanzo did not visit his brother’s coffin in the crypts below Hanamura castle. Not a day went by that he did not regret striking him down in a fit of jealousy on the day that was supposed to make his brother happy. But he had not been able to watch his brother marry someone else, to prepare for a life without Hanzo. He had never understood how his brother could have made this decision so easily, they had loved each other so fiercely. Perhaps he had still clung to the notion that their union was wrong, but Hanzo had built this castle for them. So that they could live here together in peace. When their parents had passed away, Hanzo thought that day had come, but his brother, no… He had decided to marry someone else.

 

He still remembered that day so clearly, standing over his brother’s corpse, his hands red with blood. There was no healer nearby, none capable enough to build his brother back together, and that day Hanzo’s heart had died. It was replaced by something dark. The powers he had dealt with, the powers that had promised him immortality kept their bargain that day. The first blood Hanzo had ever tasted was that of his brother, and none had been that sweet ever since.

 

Now… Now he was back, come into his life on his own free will. Perhaps Genji had known, had felt their connection. He would have to make contact soon, Hanzo knew that his body couldn’t bear staying away from him for much longer.

 

But he couldn’t be hasty. Wherever they would hole up, he needed an invitation to enter. Somehow he had to isolate Genji from the rest of the group, to get him out into the open. Perhaps once it was time for them to sleep, an opportunity would present itself. In his bat form he watched the group find their way to the only inn in the village, a run down place because no one came to visit here. The bar was still functional, but all their rooms were dusty and Hanzo rarely set foot in it. But the adventurers brought life to the place once more, filling it with chatter and laughter. They were planning Hanzo’s demise, not knowing that it was impossible.

 

Behind the inn, in the darkness of night, he transformed back into his self. It was cold and the mist rolled in, obscuring the ground underneath his feet, but Hanzo’s gaze was fixed on Genji. Through the window at the back he had a good view on him, his smile, heard his voice, muffled through the glass. He almost froze up when Genji stood and walked to the back door, close to where he was standing. He took a few steps back, but didn’t walk out of sight when he came outside.

 

“Oh shit you scared me,” Genji giggled, obviously intoxicated. “Just needed to get a bit of fresh air.”

 

“You should be careful,” Hanzo said quietly, stepping closer. If his heart could beat, it would be racing at this moment. “This land isn’t safe.”

 

“Oh yes that’s what they all say.” He leaned against the wall of the inn, his breath coming out in white puffs. “It’s hopeless, nothing can be done.”

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

“Why to save the day of course! There’s a vampire to be slain.”

 

Hanzo smiled, and his body moved on its own, closer, and closer.

 

“Is that your plan? To walk into Hanamura castle and slay him?,” he asked.

 

“Oh no that would be foolish. Ana would never let us. We have a plan we-,” he stopped mid sentence, looking at him as if he were seeing him for the first time. Suddenly the alcohol seemed to vanish from his blood and he righted himself. “You’re him. Hanzo Shimada.”

 

Hanzo’s smile widened, and he nodded.

 

“Do not be afraid, I am not here to hurt you,” he said calmly. They were so close now, all he had to do was reach out.

 

“But I just told you we’re here to kill you,” Genji said, less nervous than he would expect in the situation. “You…”

 

“Yes?”

 

The longer Genji stared into his eyes, the easier it would be to charm him. He was already working his magic, and could feel himself pierce Genji’s soul. Soon enough he would taste him, soon he would be his forever.

 

“You seem… familiar,” Genji said softly, and Hanzo grinned.

 

“You were meant to come here. To return to me. Brother.”

 

As he stepped closer, Genji took a step back, shuddering when a breeze let the mist swirl around their feet. Another step, and he was pressed against the wall, unable to escape Hanzo’s gaze. He was under his control now, Genji had been easily captured.

 

“I- I don’t have a brother,” he stammered.

 

“I did, a long time ago,” Hanzo explained, reaching out to caress his cheek. Genji shuddered again, lips parting to let out a small gasp. “He perished by my hand, but now, now you have finally come back to me. Reborn. You were meant to come here. I finally have another chance, and now we will be together.”

 

“You’re talking about reincarnation?,” Genji asked, sucking in a sharp breath when Hanzo’s finger wandered over his neck. He could feel the blood pumping through the veins, could hear his heart rate rising, and he wondered if he tasted just as sweet as he did hundreds of years ago. “That’s crazy.”

 

“And yet here you are, returned to me. You can already feel it, don’t you? You belong to me, Genji.”

 

“How- How do you know my name? Ah…”

 

Genji closed his eyes as Hanzo raised his cloak to shield them from unwanted eyes. He leaned in, nuzzling his brother’s cheek, taking in his scent. It was just like all those years ago, centuries by now… Just like their first time, hiding in the corners of their home to steal kisses that no one could ever witness, hiding their shame from the world. Now there would be no more of that, now Hanzo would take what was his and finally have someone worthy by his side.

 

His brother shuddered under his touch, but did not pull away from him as his teeth grazed the soft skin on his neck. Genji was under his spell now, and some part of him was already remembering. He would soon realise that he had no choice, that they were meant to be together. Genji only whimpered as his sharp teeth sank into his flesh and the sweet taste of his brother filled his mouth. For a moment he was overwhelmed by it, by the memory and the warm body pressed to his own. Finally, finally, finally he had him back.

 

Were he any lesser creature he might have drained Genji right here and now, his taste was so sweet. But Genji meant too much to him, and he was old enough to be able to refrain from killing. He would taste him again soon enough, and so he pulled back having drank only a little, his tongue lapping at the open wound. Genji was clinging to the front of his vest, trying to keep himself upright, his breath coming quickly. But he was watching Hanzo when he pulled back, licking over his lips. Still stained with blood, he leaned in to kiss him and his brother did not resist. Quite the opposite. Hanzo pulled his brother close by his waist, deepening the kiss.

 

Kissing him was almost as sweet as drinking from him.

 

Hanzo did not need breath, but Genji did, and he was panting, gasping for it when he pulled away, his knees weak. He had to hold him up until he was steady again, then made sure he was paying attention.

 

“You and I are inevitable,” he told his brother. “I will visit you once more, and then you will come to our castle and stay with me forever.”

 

“No I- I-” Genji was still resisting… Impressive. But his brother had always been strong. “I’ll never I-”

 

“You will see,” he interrupted, licking the blood off his brother’s lips. “You will be mine.”

 

He summoned the mist to himself then, vanishing in it, watching the surprise on his brother’s face. He stood there for a moment longer, clutching the wound on his neck that was still bleeding. The scent of his sweet blood was still fresh in Hanzo’s mind, and he did not go far. Instead he watched him go back inside, watched his friends flock around him and ask him what happened. It was all too obvious, and Genji wasn’t very talkative, but the barkeep was. Perhaps to tell them to flee, to caution them not to go ahead, but these bright eyed adventurers would not see reason, Hanzo knew. He had defeated so many of them.

 

The elderly woman was bandaging Genji up when he caught his eyes again. Genji said nothing to them, and Hanzo grinned, just before vanishing into the night.

 

The seed was planted in his mind, and over the next few days Genji was restless. His spies and his own eyes showed him the worried looks over his shoulder, the tense grip on his sword’s hilt, the anticipation of Hanzo visiting him again. The dread of Hanamura weighed on all of them, and just like many before each day became harder to get through. Not just because of his spawn attacking them, of the monsters making each night tense and restless, but because of the land itself. It was corrupted, cursed, and those that could not stand it would fall to it.

 

Hanzo found it amusing to watch their spirits break with just the threat of his presence. The proud, blonde man could barely lift his hammer anymore, the gunslinger who cracked jokes was silent now, the archer started missing more and more of her targets. Like many others, they were searching for artifacts to defeat Hanzo, things that meant a lot to him, and they were getting close to one. That’s the moment he chose to appear to Genji once more, just like he had promised. It was his brother’s turn to watch the camp, and when the mist crept in he drew his sword, tensing up.

 

He stood at the edge of the forest, waiting for Genji to notice him. In a small clearing, they had set up camp, and the light of the fire was desaturated by his sheer presence. Nervously Genji scanned the tree line, and finally saw his red eyes peeking out from the forest’s darkness. Instead of tensing, the grip on his sword relaxed for a moment, then he shook his head and drew his sword. Hanzo was not worried, he just held his gaze and reached out, beckoning him closer.

 

A moment passed, another, and the sword was dropped, Genji walked towards him. Hanzo had not worked his magic, and yet Genji took his hand, let himself be guided through the forest, following without a word. Even in Hanamura, beauty could still be found. Genji gasped when he led him to the small pond, crystal clear, blood red flowers growing all around it. Fireflies illuminated the surface, the only source of light aside from the moon light coming in through the tree tops.

 

Hanzo turned to face his brother, so, so beautiful, despite the rings under his eyes, the barely healed wound on his neck. No sight had ever been more stunning, no display of nature could ever compare.

 

“Why can’t I resist?,” Genji asked. “I’m trying but I… I can’t.”

 

“Because you know that we belong together,” Hanzo replied, his hand coming to cup his cheek. His sharp fingernail brushed over his cheek, but did not draw blood.

 

“How can I be your brother?,” he continued. “You are centuries old and I… I remember you.”

 

“The universe brought you back to me,” Hanzo whispered, leaning in to steal a chaste kiss. “I struck you down all those years ago, only because I could not bear to lose you. I have regretted it ever since, I visited your tomb every day but the universe found a way to bring us back together. Hanamura will change with you by my side, I know it.”

 

“But… if we are brothers…”

 

“I built this castle for us,” Hanzo explained, one arm around Genji’s waist, he pulled him closer and his brother sighed when he rested his forehead against his. “So we could be together in peace. I do not know why you chose to marry someone else, but that isn’t important anymore. You are here, with me.”

 

“I think that I-” Genji flinched, as if struck by something, but Hanzo held him close, steadied him. “I was scared. Of this. Of us.”

 

Hanzo smiled. He was starting to remember.

 

“There is no need to be scared anymore…” His free hand came to pull down the bandage around his neck, revealing the red, tender flesh once more. He leaned in to lick over it, shuddering at the sweet taste. “I will protect you. I’ll give you anything.”

 

“Do it,” Genji gasped, and with a smile on his lips Hanzo’s teeth sank into the sweet flesh once more.

 

His brother did not scream, or gasp, instead a moan fell from his lips, and his legs gave out. But Hanzo was strong enough to hold him up, teeth locked in his flesh, the blood once more filling his mouth. He took it all in, drank and drank to sate his thirst, to take what he had craved for centuries.

 

“Han- Hanzo,” Genji breathed, the sound going straight to Hanzo’s cock. But he was no youth who could not control himself, and the dirty ground was no place to finally take his brother after centuries of waiting.

 

It still took his iron will to pull back from his brother and drink until there was nothing left in him. It would happen soon enough. He held his brother instead, kissed him with blood stained lips like he had done before, cradling him until he was strong enough to stand once more. This time there was no magic between them when Hanzo spoke.

 

“You will receive an invitation from me soon,” he explained, though Genji was barely conscious. “You will accept it. You will come to our castle, and you will betray your friends.”

 

“Th-They’re not part of this,” Genji was trembling in his arms. “Please let them go.”

 

“That is not in my power,” he said, lifting his brother up to slowly carry him back to his camp. “They have trespassed and they will not be let go. They may join us as playthings, or perish.”

 

“This land is cursed,” Genji said softly, echoing words he had heard from someone else. From everyone they had encountered. “Cursed…”

 

He passed out then, and Hanzo stole another kiss as he laid him down on his bedroll, the fire flickering as it was slowly giving out. Tenderly brushing through his bright hair, Hanzo smiled. It would not be long, and he was eager.

 

Still, he managed to hold out for a few days, mostly to let Genji recuperate from his renewed blood loss, and also to make sure that his companions were weakened further. His spies and servants had managed to lead the group on a false trail, and the amulet they had found was nothing but a mere trinket, useless in a fight against him. Nevertheless it had given them renewed hope, and they were confident when they accepted his invitation to castle Hanamura.

 

As promised in his letter, he had his servants prepare dinner and waited at his grand table for them, standing when they arrived. They all had their weapons drawn, even Genji, although his brother wasn’t tense, or ready for a fight. Hanzo chuckled at the view of them, and gestured to the free seats.

 

“My, my, how rude. I thought I was clear, this is not a war, my friends,” he said. “This is an invitation to dinner. I promise you nothing is poisoned, I merely wish to talk.”

 

“And we are supposed to believe you, _vampire_ ,” the blonde spat the word in disgust. “After you have attacked our friend twice?”

 

“I did not attack him. And I did not do anything he did not want,” Hanzo said.

 

“An unlikely story,” the archer said, an arrow nocked on her bow.

 

“Have you asked him?”

 

They all turned to look at Genji, who’s sword was not readied. Very slowly, he sheathed it, and took a step forward. He looked tired, too tired to fight this, too drawn to his own brother to explain anything to his friends. They all watched as he walked to his side, and sat in the free seat closest to him.

 

“Genji?,” the elderly woman asked. She slowly followed. “Is he right?”

 

Without looking up, he whispered: “Yes.”

 

They all lowered their weapons then, and along with Hanzo took their seats.

 

“You bewitched him,” the gunslinger said. “Put a spell of some kind on him!”

 

“He did not,” Genji said softly. “I am… His brother.”

 

“That’s impossible,” the swordsman said. “You’re a vampire. Centuries old.”

 

“Reincarnation,” Hanzo simply said, taking the gold goblet filled with blood to take a sip. Slowly, he licked the remains off his lip. “Whether you believe it or not, it is true. Genji is mine, and he will stay. The only thing left to decide is what will happen to the rest of you.”

 

“You can’t possibly believe him, Genji!,” the gunslinger stood abruptly, his chair falling behind him. “This is nonsense, there’s no such thing as reincarnation! He’s bewitching you!”

 

Genji sighed, and slowly shook his head. He ripped the fresh bandage from his neck, and slowly unbuckled his belt, the straps that held his sword to his back, and let it all clatter to the ground. He finally lifted his head, and there was a small smile on his lips.

 

“It’s true. The past few days, all these memories have been coming back… The day he struck me down, but also the days where…,” he trailed off, looked at Hanzo, and his smile widened. “The days we made love were the ones I was happiest. I’ve been restless all my life, but now… Now I’m home. I love you.”

 

The undead heart in Hanzo’s chest leaped at those words, and warmth flooded his being. At his moment, hearing those words, he felt more alive than he ever had. He stood and walked to his brother, leaned down to claim a kiss from him to shocked gasps from the rest of the group. He righted himself, one hand on Genji’s shoulder, and faced them.

 

“You have three choices,” he said. “One, leave this castle and hope that this land lets you return home. Two, join me and become my servants. Three, die, right here, and now.”

 

“Never,” the blonde shouted, clambering over the table and swinging his hammer at Hanzo.

 

Hanzo sighed as he reached out to grasp the hammer with his free hand, twisting it from his grasp and throwing it aside. He had violated his hospitality and so Hanzo didn’t hesitate in rushing forward and slicing the man’s throat. He grasped at it, gurgling as he fell to his knees on the table. Calmly, Genji stood and walked back to not get hit by the spray.

 

The rest of the group sprang into action, aside from the archer, who merely put distance between herself and the scramble. The remaining three came at him, but it was so easy to dodge their attacks. Even those that hit, a bullet from the gunslinger did not slow him down. The swordsman lost an arm, his screams echoing in the large hall, the healer lost her head to fall onto the table, rolling off it as the archer looked on. Hanzo took mercy on the swordsman and finished him off, transforming into a cloud of mist only to materialise behind the gunslinger. He swiftly disarmed him, hand closing around his throat when Genji’s shout made him hesitate.

 

“Please, Jesse, don’t fight him,” he begged. Genji briefly glanced at the carnage around him, then focused on the gunslinger again. “Please accept his mercy.”

 

“But Genji…,” something in the gunslinger’s voice made Hanzo hesitate. There was something here between them. “You want to spend all your life here? With him?”

 

“You’d be with me,” Genji said softly, reaching out to him. “Forever.”

 

Something clattered to the floor then, another gun he had pulled out but not used.

 

“For you, then,” Jesse said. “With you. Forever.”

 

With those words Hanzo sank his teeth into him, not holding back, not hesitating even when Jesse struggled against his grip. It hurt at first, it drained all his strength, but Jesse would feel his power once he awoke. His blood tasted sharp and hot, and Hanzo greedily drank it all up until the man collapsed in his arms, pale and unmoving. Hanzo shuddered when he pulled back, felt renewed strength in him.

 

He was careful to lie him on the ground, now that he was his he would take care of him. But first there was the archer to take care of.

 

“You have been quiet,” he said, taking a napkin from the table to dab the blood from the corner of his mouth.

 

“I recognise power when I see it,” she said, her voice calm. “If you would give it, I would accept your gift.”

 

Hanzo chuckled and stepped closer, reaching out to caress her cheek. Her skin was pale, her hair dark like the night, her lips full. She was a beauty but there was a darkness in her that he adored.

 

“Gladly,” he said, leaning in to kiss her, a hand coming around to press her close, to hold her in place as his kisses brushed over her cheek, her jaw, finally her throat.

 

She did not struggle or feel fear when his teeth sank into her graceful neck, she only sighed. Her blood was cold as it filled his mouth, cold but powerful. She was not human, he could tell, but what she was, was a mystery. Hanzo loved those, they made his endless days in Hanamura more interesting, and now the mystery in form of this beautiful woman would be by his side until the end of days. When her life left her, and her blood was gone, he beckoned Genji closer so he could lift her up. Hanzo took care of the gunslinger, and together they walked to the castle’s gardens.

 

It was dirty work, but important to turn them. One night would leave them both his spawns, not full vampires, but powerful enough to make them worthy servants. Only his brother would gain his greatest gift. Only he would rule by his side.

 

When they were buried and resting for the night, Hanzo carried his brother back into the castle. His servants had prepared everything, a hot bath, oils, silken robes for Genji to dress in once he had taken a bath. He looked utterly lovely as Hanzo led him to the bed, crawling onto it to sprawl there, smiling and presenting himself to his brother.

 

“I came here wanting to kill you,” Genji said, reaching out, the sleeve of the silken robe falling back to expose his arm. “And now all I want is for you to make love to me.”

 

Some of the monster, the animalistic side in him came out as Hanzo snarled and briefly transformed into mist to close the distance between them. Materialising on top of his brother, he went in for an all consuming kiss that left his brother breathless when he remembered to pull away. That sweet breath, the pumping of his heart, he would savour it all for as long as he still had it.

 

Genji eagerly spread his legs for him, and started to unbutton Hanzo’s vest, almost desperately trying to get his clothes off. One by one they fell to the floor beside his big four poster bed, revealing the naked, powerful form of him. Genji licked his lips at the sight, and undid the sash that held his robe together. Underneath he revealed smooth, pale skin that Hanzo was drawn to, peppering kisses all over him. He was so warm, so lovely, and the force that he had missed him with was almost overwhelming were it not for the fact that Hanzo had now everything he ever wanted.

 

He was gentle with his brother, used the oil his servants had brought to make sure that the act of love would not hurt him. The moon light shone in through the open window and set a soft light onto his brother who smiled, who looked so full of love and life. No more would Hanamura be a place for his despair, no more would this land be cursed. The act of killing his brother was what had caused all of this, but now that he was back everything would be undone.

 

Hanzo slid into his brother with ease, felt his hot breath on his neck, his fingers clawing at his shoulders. He had had many partners over the centuries but none filled him with life like his brother did. The pleasure he gave him, the sound of his beating heart brought such joy to him. He was surprised he could still feel it.

 

Hearing his own name moaned into his ear, hearing Genji call him brother was almost too much. He had grieved so much for him that he could scarcely believe this was finally happening. He was claiming his brother, thrusting sharply into him now to coax the sweetest moans out of him. All Genji was really able to do was hold on to him, fingernails leaving marks on his back that Hanzo would cherish for the brief time they were there. And in the end, Genji begged.

 

“Do it, brother,” he gasped into his ear, and Hanzo pulled back from where he had been kissing him. “Bite me. Turn me. Make me yours.”

 

Hanzo growled just before he sank his teeth into him once more, a third, and a final time. Genji moaned as he thrust harder into him all the while draining him of his blood. There was no holding back now, for them to be together forever, Genji had to die. Together they came, Hanzo filled his brother with his seed, and as Genji let out a final sound of pleasure his hands fell from where they had been holding on to Hanzo.

 

He pulled back, watching the sight of his dead brother underneath him. Only this time it would be different.

 

He used his sharp fingernail to cut open his wrist, bringing it to Genji’s lips. A few drops of his life force, and Genji would not awake as a spawn, but as his equal. A part of Hanzo would be forever inside his brother, tying them together, making them one.

 

Wrapped in the softest silk he buried his brother under the beautiful cherry tree in his garden, now in full bloom. No other place was worthy.

 

All he had to do then, was wait.

 

Sitting in his grand hall, on his throne, human sacrifices by his side, he grinned when he heard movement outside. It was part of it, to climb out of the dirty grave, to fight for this new life that had been given to them. The gunslinger, the archer, and his brother appeared in the hall, their eyes black with the sheer hunger they were now feeling. Hanzo stood, and gestured to his humans, knowing their lives were forfeit.

 

The three gorged on them, unable to hold back from killing them with the need that was coursing through their veins. But once sated, the red came to their eyes, and they all faced Hanzo, waiting for his instructions. He stepped off his throne, ignoring the dirt and gore around him, came to stand in front of the archer.

 

“Amélie,” he said, cupping her cheek and leaning in for a kiss. Her smile, bloody as it was, was utterly beautiful. Then he turned, and closed the pact with the gunslinger in the same way. “Jesse. Welcome to your new home.”

 

In front of Genji, he kneeled. The ring he had forged for him centuries ago, was still in prime condition, and slid easily onto his finger.

 

“My love. Nothing can stop us now.”

 

There was change in the air, Hanzo could smell it. The mists were changing, and later that night, having dressed his new partners in the finest armours, they took a carriage to Hanamura’s borders. For the first time in centuries, the mist parted at his approach, revealing the lands beyond.

 

With Genji by his side, he felt the other two step up behind him.

 

“My loves. It is time to conquer.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Widowmaker is an archer just cause I didn't want two gunslingers. If my players are anything to go by, archers are OP as fuck.


End file.
